


Cheesy Meetings and Questioned Existences

by AmyPound



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, First Time, Johnlock Gift Exchange, M/M, Unilock, college partying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyPound/pseuds/AmyPound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock was convinced John didn't know who he was. And it was fine, it was all 'fine' until John unexpectedly invites him to a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheesy Meetings and Questioned Existences

**Author's Note:**

> This is my creation for the Johnlock Gift Exchange over on tumblr. This lovely fic is for 'mmartinfreemann' who I can only hope isn't the real Martin Freeman. My prompt was 'Meeting for the first time' and my genres were either College AU or Coffeeshop AU. Unfortunately I know nothing about coffee, so this fic was born. Sadly not my best, but I hope you like it anyway. 
> 
> I may go back in and add more explicit sexy times, but I was running out of time. This is also unfortunately unbetaed and un Britpicked. All mistakes are mine and mine alone. Any feedback is appreciated.

It really should have started with a bang. The heavens should have opened, angels should have sung, and there should have been sex, absolutely amazing, wonderful sex. That was how these things were supposed to happen, right? He’d meet John, in an inexplicably adorable fashion, they’d go for coffee before going back to John’s place for the best shag either had ever experienced. At least that’s how those terrible movies seemed to go. “Does John like terrible movies? That would be alright, I suppose, every person had faults and in the spectrum of faults liking terrible movies wasn’t the worst thing in the world. In either case, that’s how our first meeting should have gone, instead of him vaguely possibly knowing of my existence--”

“Sherlock?”  Greg called. How long had he been there?

“Yes Lestrade?” He asked, feigning nonchalance.

“You were talking yourself again.”

 “I wasn’t talking to myself.” Sherlock ran his hands over his newly acquired friend.

Greg rolled his eyes. “Right, of course, you talk to the skull.”

“Why wouldn’t I talk to the skull?”

“I dunno,” Greg mumbled as he began making tea. “You could try talking to people once in a while.”

“Ugh,” Sherlock groaned, rolling off the sofa and onto the floor. “People. People are horrid, dull and ignorant.”

“You’re going to say that to the man making your tea?”

“You’re not _people_.” Sherlock stood and walked into the small kitchen to grab biscuits. “You’re Greg.”

“Right,” Greg scoffed. “And I suppose this _John_ isn’t  people, either?”

“That’s none of your business,” Sherlock said with a frown. “And no, he’s not.”

“And you know this because?”

“We’re in Organic Chemistry together.” When Greg said nothing Sherlock huffed and continued. Greg always required full explanations. “He’s…competent.”

“Oh, _truly_ a romance for the ages,” Greg grumbled.  

“Competency in the lab is important to me,” Sherlock said with a sniff. “Besides, he also is attractive, patient, and kind.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I’ve watched him interact with others.”

Greg paused and raised an eyebrow. “So, you’ve never talked to him?”

“No.” Sherlock didn’t see why that mattered.

Greg dropped his head. “Right. Of course you hadn’t.”

“I haven’t had the opportunity,” Sherlock replied.

“You’re in the same class as him, and you’re a genius. Even your awkward, skinny arse should be able to think of something.”

“I’m not even sure he’s aware of my existence,” Sherlock grumbled under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t make that out.”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Bad day?” Molly asked as she walked into the flat.

“Sherlock’s just complaining about everything, nothing new,” Greg said with a flirtatious grin. He walked forward and wrapped his arms around Molly in a tight embrace.

Molly smiled at Sherlock. “Aww, cheer up, it’s not all bad.”

“Isn’t that remarkably easy for you to say, given what you two have been up to these past few evenings.”

Greg glared at Sherlock over Molly’s head.

“A-Anyway,” she stammered, her face bright red. “I came over here to say we’ve been invited to a party.”

Sherlock huffed and shuffled back into the sitting room. “You two go and have fun, don’t feel the need to include me when I’m not wanted.”

“Actually, you were invited,” Molly clarified.

“What?” “Really?”Sherlock and Greg wondered at the same time.

Molly nodded. “Yeah. Today I was hanging out with some other medical students. And well…Mike Stamford and his flatmates are throwing a party and one of them asked me to make sure to ask you to come.”

Sherlock frowned. “Which flatmate?”

“Umm,” Molly bit her lip and frowned. “The short one?”

“Anderson?” Greg asked, confused.

“No, the blonde, fit one, plays rugby…” Molly said scrunching her nose in concentration. “He’s in your organic chemistry lab.”

“John.” Sherlock breathed. If he were any less intelligent his head would be spinning. “John Watson.”

“Yeah!” Molly shouted with a grin. “That’s the one!”

Sherlock ignored Greg’s grin and frowned. “John Watson asked me to come to his party? Are you sure?”

Molly nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure. I wouldn-- couldn’t lie to you.”

“Yes, obviously,  but what did he say? What _exactly_ did he say?”  Sherlock asked walking closer to her.

“I…Uhh...” Molly stammered as Sherlock crammed into what she considered her personal space. “H-he said, ‘You’re friends with Sherlock, right?’ And I said, ‘Yeah, he lives with my boyfriend.’ And then he said, ‘Could you tell him he’s invited too, please?’ And then some of his roommates argued with him but I think they settled on you could come because almost everyone will be pissed and won’t even notice you being there. And that’s it.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment, trying to process this new data. John Watson knew he existed. John might not completely hate him. John invited him to a social gathering. That might not be the smartest thing John had ever done, but Sherlock supposed John should be given credit for trying. John-- “Oi, earth to lover boy!” Sherlock pouted and glared at Greg. “You should start getting ready. I know how long it takes you to pretty yourself up.”

“I don’t ‘pretty up’” Sherlock scoffed. 

Molly and Greg traded skeptical looks. “Right…” Greg said with a nod. “Of course you don’t.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked toward the bathroom. “Oh, piss off!”

* * *

 

Sherlock walked nervously through the party. There were too many people, too loud of music, too many conflicting scents, altogether too much data. His processor was overheating. Quickly

Sherlock made his way over to the impromptu bar and helped himself a pint. Alcohol usually dulled his senses in a way that he never enjoyed, but it might be able to help stem the overflow in this current situation. He sipped at the beer wincing at the taste. 

Despite everything he still hadn’t seen John. John, who had supposedly asked for him to come to this ridiculous affair in the first place. Sherlock huffed as he was bumped into for the fifth time that evening. 

“Oi, watch it freak!” the boy slurred.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes, he had no patience for this type of thing. Not tonight.  “I haven’t done anything, Sebastian.”

“Yeah, right, I’m sure you’re up to something, why else would you be here?” 

“I was invited.” Sherlock turned away from the boy.

Sebastian laughed. “I didn’t realize we needed entertainment that badly. They hired a bloody freak show for the evening?”

“It’s not even your party, why are you here? I didn’t think future doctors and bankers mixed. No common moral ground.”

“I go to parties all the time, you’re the anom—anmol—“

“Anomaly,” Sherlock corrected absently.

“Whatever,” Sebastian mumbled. “It’s not like nobody wanted you here anyway.”

“Anybody.”

“What?”

“It’s not ‘nobody’ it’s ‘anybody’ even in your inebriated state an idiot like you should be able to know that.”

“What did you say?” Sebastian said pushing closer to Sherlock.

“I was merely correcting your grammar,” Sherlock said calmly. “It’s a small wonder you can even speak English at all on a day to day basis.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Before even Sherlock could comprehend, Sebastian’s fist had connected with his nose. Sherlock managed to move out of the way of the second punch, barely, only grazing his forehead. Sherlock stumbled backward, spilling his beer over himself. He reached up and saw his nose and forehead were bleeding. A small crowd gathered then, waiting for the next move. Sherlock had had enough. He didn’t care if John had invited him or not, he was getting out of here. Now.

“What the hell is going on?” A voice called, pushing through the crowd. Sherlock looked up.  John.

Sherlock ducked his head, embarrassed. Fighting at parties, even he knew that was not good.

By this time John had stepped in-between Sebastian and Sherlock. But to Sherlock’s surprise he wasn’t being pushed out the door, but to a back bedroom.

John sighed and slumped his forehead against the door after he shut it. “I’m sorry about that. I really am.”

Sherlock’s head was reeling. This wasn’t how these things usually went. “What?”

“You got punched in the face. Twice.”John turned around and walked up to him. “Oh my god, how hard did he hit you?” John asked, reaching up to examine him. 

“I don’t have a concussion!”  Sherlock insisted. “Shouldn’t you be checking on him?”

“Why would I check on him? He’s the one who hit you,” John said still obviously trying to subtly check Shrerlock’s pupils.

“I may have provoked it,” Sherlock admitted begrudgingly. “But in my defense he doesn’t have enough brain cells left to be imbibing alcohol.”

John chuckled. “You’re telling me,” he said with a grin. “I overheard him and Anderson working on a project for some class the other day. Anderson looked ready to throttle him.”

“That’s how he usually looks when dealing with me,” Sherlock replied confused.

“Anderson’s from a small town, he’s not used to not being the smartest person in the room,” John explained patiently. “And well, everyone knows who the smartest person in the room is when you walk in.”

Sherlock felt his face heat and apparently that caused his bleeding to worsen. John also seemed to notice this, unfortunately. “Here, let me get you a towel.”

Sherlock suddenly found himself sitting on the floor with John Watson sitting on a chair above him, tending to his face.

“Why are you doing this?” Sherlock asked as John continued to attempt to treat his injuries.

“Because you’re hurt,” John replied simply.

“You hardly know me.”

“I know you’re in my organic chemistry class. I know you have a bit of a mouth on you, which is why you got punched and not for the first time. I know I invited you to this party and I know you’re bleeding like nobody’s business.”

“And that’s enough for you?” Sherlock asked skeptically.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because I also know you’re a good person and you even with you don’t deserve to be punched in the face.”

Sherlock raised his eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t have the concussion?”

John chuckled. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “And people say I’m insane.”

John laughed even louder. “You’re not insane. From what I can tell you’re rude, funny and slightly morbid. That’s far off from insane.”

Sherlock couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face. “You know so much about me, and I’ve never officially met you, John.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of hard to miss you, Sherlock.” John shifted so he was also sitting on the floor.

Sherlock sighed. “Thank you, for all this. You didn’t have to.”

“No, but I wanted to,” John said gently.

“Why?”

“Because, I’d been trying to get the nerve up to talk to you for this whole semester and I thought, maybe I might have a chance to talk to you in a low pressure social situation.”

Sherlock frowned and turned so he could face John head on. “You’ve wanted to talk to me all semester?”

“Oh, god, yeah,” John said, his face cracking into a huge grin. “You’re brilliant, and funny, and I’d like to get to know you better.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything, everything.”

“Did you know that with proper vacuuming it’s possible to completely drain a human corpse of blood in seven seconds?”

“I did not know that,” John said with a nod. “Not really what I was going for though.”

“I had a feeling, but if you really want to know me, you’re going to have to put up with that sort of thing.”

And much to Sherlock’s surprise John just grinned. “That sounds perfectly fine to me.”

* * *

 

John and Sherlock laughed loudly as Sherlock finished regaling John with one of his shining moments of secondary school. They were slouching on John’s bed, each nursing a bottle of water.

“Sherlock, you are brilliant, slightly insane, but brilliant,” John said with a huge grin.

“How else are you supposed to prove your chemistry professor’s an idiot?” Sherlock asked, mirroring John’s grin.

“Personally, my first instinct isn’t blowing up a lab.”

“You have no sense of adventure,” Sherlock said with a sniff.

“Is that so?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “I am almost never wrong.”

“Want to test that?” John said with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

John had no verbal response, he  merely leaned onto his side and planted a gentle kiss on Sherlock’s lips.

Sherlock shivered. “Oh,” he breathed. “You’ve been flirting back.” He winced. “There’s always something…”

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about it,” John began speaking quickly. “Unless you don’t reciprocate, in which case I’m really sorry. I just had to try it once…”

“John,” Sherlock interrupted. “I have wanted to, ‘try it’ since the day in chemistry when it seemed you were one of the first people to know proper lab procedure.” Sherlock’s head fell forward to lean against John’s. “And you’ve only confirmed what I had suspected for quite some time. You’re quite unsuspectingly spectacular.”

John giggled nervously. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“Enough talking,” Sherlock declared as he ducked his head for another kiss. Sherlock and John slowly began moving their lips together.  Shy, shallow kisses slowly began to grow bolder and more intense before John pulled away.

“Sorry, had to breathe,” John explained in between deep breaths.

“Breathing’s boring,” Sherlock replied as he tugged John on top of him, pressing their hips together. “You’re interesting.”

“Care to make things more interesting?”

“God, yes.” Sherlock pulled John down for a more intense and searing series of kisses and everything past that.

That night Sherlock confirmed John Watson not only knew he existed, but he got his crap movie sex too. And the next morning When Sherlock woke up, sticky, hot and sore, but wrapped around John Watson, he knew, while it may be corny it was the happiest he had been in quite some time. 


End file.
